Haunted
by Gelasia Kidd
Summary: Post-Pacifist, Post-Genocide. When horrible trickery has Chara stealing Frisk's soul, Frisk knew it was Kill or Be Killed. And with all the soul they have left, they swear they were never going to kill again. What happens next, though? Well that's fate. M for violence and cussing.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Undertale**_

 _A.N. I am not even going to begin to claim that I will be able to continue this. Just writing it, brought me to tears. I'll try, but anyone who wants to adopt, please feel free. Just link me to your version._

It had really started all so innocently. Frisk had accidentally freaked out when a froggit jumped out on them. A scared instinct made them realize fight or fight was a thing, afterwards, and while they stood with the dust on their hands, stunned, SHE came.

Frisk was suddenly a back seat in their own body. When Toriel tried to stop them from leaving, and this person struck her with the killing blow, Frisk shrieked NO! in their own head.

Surprisingly, the person who had taken their body, replied back. "So stupid, idiot! You wondered why this started over! I was sick of your happy ending! So I reset, and I'm going to destroy everything. Afterall, in this world its KILL OR BE KILLED!"

In the hall of judgement, they felt betrayed when the closest thing to a father they ever had, couldn't see Frisk behind the glowing eyes, couldn't see this person WAS NOT YOU.

At the very end, they discovered the girls name from a familiar daisy.

"Chara" had destroyed everything. But tauntingly, dangled a bone.

"Sell me your soul, and I'll reset everything," she said, sweet poison.  
She did..

And as Frisk stared at the GENOCIDE/NO MERCY button, Chara cackled in the back of their head. She wanted FRISK to kill, to destroy them, and with their soul stolen, they couldn't do a thing..

Except this. Froggit hit them, and they took the blow. What started as a walk for independence grew into horror for the goat mom, as she stared at the corpse on the floor, before fleeing.

Chara had made one vital mistake- She had handed over the power to reset to Frisk, to watch them futilely try to fight their fate, over and over.

And with the connection to the soulless child's body faded, Chara had nothing to ground her, and simply faded away.

000000

Something was different about this reset, Sans realized. He hoped it wasn't going to be as bad as last time..

The kid.. the kid had destroyed everything they and the monsters had worked for. They had killed Sans brother. And Sans had betrayed everyone, by trusting a human. A human who was only there to gain their trust and backstab them.

Sans could almost feel Pap's scarf in his hand. His eye flaring blue, he turned to the door to the ruins.  
Toriel hadn't shown up, and it'd been a week. If that kid had killed Tori already.. There was no promise holding him back.

He heard a thunk against the floor, and the air seemed filled with soft, pitiful tears.

"Knock knock," Sans said through the door. Silence stretched on for one long moment, before he got a response.

"I'm sorry Sans.. I'm not feeling particularly funny today," Tori said, her voice hitching. "I couldn't.. even save one child."  
Sans eyes faded into black holes.

"Tori, I'm coming in," he said. It spoke for how lost Tori was, that she didn't even try to fight the decision.

Sans was short compared to Tori, but easily lifted her up by her arms.  
"Come on Tori," he murmured. "Let's go to the house."

00000

She had told him where the body was- She couldn't bear to go again, but pled with to Sans to bury the poor child. He was reluctant, but promised Tori he would.

As he arrived at the body, he stopped still. There was a small family of froggits, and the littlest one was croaking tears out, surrounding the body. There was monster candy, scattered around the body.

An elderly froggit sat closer to him, and looked up in surprise as Sans walked up to him.

"What happened here?" Sans asked, it coming out harsher than intended.

"Lil Frog accidentally hit this kid too hard," the froggit responded. "We keep trying to give the kid monster candy to heal them up.."

That said a lot for why the candies were scattered. Froggits were ignorant to human biology, and since the body didn't turn to dust, they had hoped to cure the kid.

Sans hesitantly approached the group, asking the same question. Lil Frog was the only one to speak up.

"I just wanted to play! But a fight started, for some reason. I wanted to thump them good for that, but they didn't even dodge. This red stuff came out, and.. and.." Lil Frog keened, seeming far too aware what had happened, compared to the others.  
"..they just smiled and said thank you."

Sans turned to the body, an unreadable expression in his gaze. Across the blood splattered face, were grooves. The kid had been crying as they died. But why?

Sans had a horrible sinking feeling that he was missing something, as he gathered up Frisk's body. The child who had once called him dad.

0000

With the body moved, the froggits scattered and afraid to enter the room, there was nothing left but a puddle of blood and a handful of monster candy. The blood was steaming, for some reason, despite it not being hot in the room whatsoever, and the blood being days old.

White wisps of steam came up to form a shivering child form, incredibly transparent. Frisk wasn't quite sure what was happening, but when their dad walked by, blood stained, they curled up in a heartbreaking ball of terror.

But Sans passed right by them, unseeing. And somehow this was worse, as silent, screaming sobs wracked their body. The day passed by, and their sobs died down to shuddering that was almost painful.

Everything they had done was lost, and there was be no saving for them. They lay down in the blood, half aware, and that was how the next few days went.

They were almost completely lost when a soft 'hand' pushed at him.

"H-hey," a familiar voice said. "A-are you ok-kay?" Frisk turned up their face, startled, and with delight shot over to Napstablook, grasping him, shuddering. Frisk tried to tell Napstablook what had happened, but to their shock, nothing would come from their throat.

"Oh.." Napstablook said in realization. "Y-you haven't been t-taught to talk yet, huh? New ghosts s-sometimes have that problem." He smiled softly at them and took their hand, leading them carefully away, phasing through walls. "I'll t-teach you," Napstablook promised. "Like how Metta taught me."

And with a tiny, hopeful grin, they followed Napstablook. And if their hand grew a little tighter on Napstablook, and Frisk's eyes brimmed with tears... Well Napsta wasn't going to say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

_A.N. Well, I suppose its obvious I kept going. . This inspiration is eating my face off._

Mettaton was both incredibly grateful to his dear friend Alphys, and horribly bitter. The young lizard woman had been a critical part in his death, but tried to terribly hard to make it up to him after, that he couldn't help but forgive the darling.

It helped that she had known a fair amount of Japanese culture, of course.

Mettaton had been the 3rd human to fall. He had been know fondly as Mitsuko-chan, to the okama brothel he worked for. He wasn't quite sure how he had ended up in the ruins- The nice goat lady didn't really know what to do with a cross dressing older man, and after making sure he was bundled in clean, warmer clothes, had no issues shooing him out.

Of course, he had learned who Toriel was, far too late to do any good. He had heard the history straight from Asgore, as his new, kind friend Alphys hovered in sorrow, too afraid to help him- going against her crush was unthinkable, and he understood.

They had a wonderful few weeks together, quickly gaining enthusiasm for making costumes, and overall having a good time. Mitsuko hadn't really had anything resembling kindness in his life. He had been a pretty child, whose father had gambled himself into a debt he couldn't pull out of, and sold his son away for his own sake.

Mitsuko hesitantly admitted this to Alphys, as he huddled in the cell they had made. After Asgore had proclaimed his death was due, Alphys begged for just a night, please, only a night, to say goodbye. Alyphs held him as much as she could, through the bars, babbling apologies to her best friend, for his death that was to come.

Mettaton now knew keenly that was why Undyne and Alphys had stayed distant so many years. That sad betrayal pulled them apart. And Mitsuko, in his form of Happstablook, guarded Alphys heart for many years.

But Alphys knew there would be another human, and she didn't want to see this happen ever again. So she compromised her morals in the most horrible way. The experiments destroyed what little self esteem she had, as she was raised to hope and then had it horribly ripped away.

That would eventually be what mended the bridge between them, too, he mused, planning his next show. The equal amount of self loathing made Alphys more open to approaching Undyne. They were slowly mending their friendship, even despite the other humans that fell down.

So Mettaton couldn't truly hold any grudges to his best friend and closest companion. She gave him a form to manipulate things, and was even building him a better body. He was finally going to become what he always truly dreamed of- a beautiful star.. not just a toy. It was slow going, but he had hope.

It was Alphys being there that he was even still around.. After all, that sort of care, mercy, hope and compassion, was enough to give him half a monster soul- just enough to be a ghost.

So he let the bad memories dull over the years- he treasured Alphys far too much to let the darling down.

A phone ring pulled him away from his thoughts- and his plans. Mettaton looked at the phone number in a sense of stunned amazement, and before the caller could hang up as he was prone to do, hit the talk button.

"Blooky! Darling! What a marvelous surprise!" he cooed. The normally slow paced voice of his cousin was rapidfire, and if he hadn't already been a white ghost in a metal square he would have paled.

"Oh dear! I.. of course! I'll be there immediately!"

The phone hung up, and he slowly placed it down, before carefully leaving a note for Alphys.

"Well," Mettaton sighed to himself. "Family first, right?" Disengaging from his armor was always disconcerting for him, after all these years, and as the lightly pink glowing ghost slipped out, he flung his bangs in sad dismay.

"A baby-boo, huh?" said to himself, fluttering through the walls. "Poor doll hadn't even got into the double digits.."

00000

Living with Napstablook would had been sort of fun, they thought, if the reason they came wasn't so miserable. Most of what they had done so far was to sooth the pain that came with being deceased.

Napstablook had been more vocal with Frisk now than he ever had been in the past timeline. Frisk wasn't about ready to admit they needed, wanted a guardian- after what happened with Mom and Dad, it wasn't a happy thing. But Frisk, no, Fraskablook, could admire him, at least as a cousin and tutor. And a very dear friend, Frask felt, on the good days where he could smile.

When they had arrived, Nasptablook wouldn't let them look at themselves yet.

"N-no, Fraska, th-there is a f-family tradition..." his eyes trailed down. "S-sorry.. really, this s-should be done by Metta..I'm not really g-good with this... "

Frask couldn't let their friend retreat into himself- it wouldn't be good for either of them. So they smiled, patting at their friend. Even if the smile felt pasted on.

"..oh..Y-you.. thank you," Napstablook smiled. "Y-you are so brave .. little Frask."

They shook their head, feeling depressed.

"..h-hey, you know what I do when... I'm feeling bad..?" Napstablook slipped hesitantly. "I l-like to lay on the floor and f-feel like.. garbage.."

Frask lay down next to Napstablook, and they slipped into the stars together. They didn't expect that being a ghost would be so different than being human, when they did this with Napstablook.. it was, it very much was.

They floated lightly in the heavens, and turned to Napstablook, who.. wasn't a ghost. There was a pale teenager, black hair hanging in his face and tattered clothing on. The headphones around his neck were the same as the ones he had worn as a ghost. The cassette tape player waas in a pouch hanging around his waist..a priceless heirloom from the past.

"H-hey, Frask," the boy said, grasping his chest nervously with one hand, as the other slipped piece of hair behind his ear. The one eye exposed by this was slate grey, and he in embarrassment covered his face with his hair again, at their staring.

"..y-yeah, well... um.. My n-name is Casey," the depressed teen said. "But y-you know me better as Nappstablook."

It suddenly hit Frask of what a privilege it had been for Napstablook to offer that when they were still a human in your world.. they refused to call whatever SHE did, their world..

The thought that Napsta was human made them look down at their own arms. Skin colored...Striped shirt.. their hair was normal..they shuddered and crouched down, crying. And with nary one breath of hesitation, and Frisk was being held by Casey, sobbing desperately as Frisk babbled out their story.


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N. Warning: Nappsta may be very OOC in actions- but with enough reason, anyone can snap. Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide and neglect. Also cursing._

The shy ghost could not calm down. Nappstablook was not able to zone. Could not bring up the feelings of sadness to cry. And with his eyes closed, he vibrated in pure rage. That poor child! He had just enough in him to put the child into Metta's bed, since Frask was faded with emotional fatigue.

The little could not even work up enough energy to go through the rest of their tradition- but in all fairness, he wasn't quite of a right mind to go through it either. His headphones lay forgotten on the table, and a quick, softly spoken, but furious call to Metta meant that he was going to get help, very soon.

He could barely pinch out the little information he dare, realistically wary about traced calls. He took some deep breathes, hoping to calm himself, reflecting what he knew.

Little Frask knew far too many details about the world for having just come in and died, more than a burdened little boo could. The heaven realm allowed for no lies, regardless. For Frask to try so hard..

His brow furrowed, because he knew the landscape around Mt. Ebbot. It was miles and miles of forest preservation land. He had been a stupid kid, and he deserved what he got. He had some depression issues, not an awful lot of friends, and riding his bike up here.. it took weeks, and he now deeply regret the suicide note he left for his parents to find.

He had good parents, fantastic parents.. he was just a bad kid, and his self doubts led to this. But he knew Mt. Ebbot, and the landscape. If it took a week alone on foot for him, in moderately good shape, to scale the thin mountain paths.

Frask didn't part with an awful lot of information about their life Pre-Underground... but they let enough slip. They were dropped.

It also didn't miss his notice, how fast Frask slipped into contentment with their "Mom". Little kids didn't DO that, unless they had been so starved of affection that earnest care cemented her firmly. This Sans fellow, Nappsta had see him around now and then. How much Sans effected Frask..

He glanced behind him through the cracked door, at the little boy who was a fragile mix of skeleton and porcelain doll, soft doll like features with light skeleton grooves, and in black, slightly sunken sockets, bright blue eyes that swam with flames.

And that was what made him so heartrendingly sad, and so horridly furious. That the babies "Dad" defined so much of who they were, and didn't even SEE that the kid was crying for help.. that their DAD LET THEM DOWN...!

He was never going to let that kid down, ever again. Frask had seen too much of that sort of thing, it was cruel. And.. his eyes flashed up at the cavern ceiling. If he had to fucking fight his own god damn self and insecurities to make it happen, he was going to.

His tear attacks floated around him, but .. they were no longer tears. Sharp music notes with knife blade sharpness flew in scales around him, the sheet music tearing up the terrain.

He had heard this saying a long time ago. His cousin, the mad dummy, once battled Sans, and in his own demented manner had taken the pain Sans inflicted on him as the mercy, hope, and compassion. He wasn't allowed around here anymore, not since he went after Napsta's own friend, Shyren..

He wasn't strong enough to help Shyren. The scar on her throat will forever be his shame. Maybe someday he could prove his strength again. And if it was, it was going to be for Frask. Because Shyren had Aaron now, but Frask only had him, and maybe Metta.

He had never been for much of a "let-me-at-em" personality... but maybe.. well this time... **Someone's gonna have a bad time.**

0000

Mettaton was a showman at the core. He could read between the lines, imagine the script. Most people became somewhat predictable and droll. He loved his dear Blooky, but there was never anything new with the darling..

And it's no wonder, Metta thought guiltily. No one was really around to encourage poor Blooky to move forward, get stronger. No one was really around for Blooky at all.

"Dear me," Metta murmured in self disdain. "I can't continue on like that, heavens no.. " He floated through the walls between Hotland and Waterfall rapidly, not allowing silly things like physical barriers to let little old him stop.

He cut himself short though, as he approached his house. A swirl of furious music notes was destroying the ground around the front of house.. but with a sense of control, got nowhere near the house itself.

His brow pinched as he slipped into the house from the back. The tiny, fragile ghost on the bed was not in any form he knew. Instead of the classic ghost form, the child looked like the tiniest baby doll, with transparent skin that faded into the faint impression of bones around the eyes and cheeks. Tiny skeleton hands peeked out of oversized shirt, that ended in the classic ghost miasma shirt. The ruffle of miasma trailed around their neck, giving the impression of fur, but upon closer examination, looked more like clouds.

With the way the child curled, hid the mark on its chest. It looked like a heart, and it would fade between red, purple, blue, slowly pulsing in brightness. There was some sort of pattern on the heart itself, but their 'knees' against their chest, and when he turned off his ghost senses.. and goodness, wasn't that the most difficult skill to learn, he realized the child was faded to the point you barely saw an outline.

Slipping back into his regular sight, he sighed and brought up the stats screen reluctantly. The child was not even aware of the fight window coming up- which really didn't matter, since ghosts couldn't die again. "Fraskablook".

And despite himself, he cursed in his head. The name that the ghosts gained was largely defined by the qualities in them that stood out the brightest. Happstablook, always wanted to be happy, and tried to live their life with a coy smile. Nappstablook was at peace when working on music, and so he was named after a music source that could make even the sad ghost smile when remembering.

But Fraskablook, something defined them so much that they didn't even get the classic format name. Mettaton gently, reluctantly, touched the check button.

* formerly known as Frisk, Fraskablook, the Angel of Prophecy, suffered great betrayal, and their DETERMINATION is failing.

The moment of shock that filled him quickly drained as it filled him and he was given his own sense of DETERMINATION, as he looked out at the torrent of sheet music. That was one thing that Happsta and Nappsta had in common. Music was going to be the only way to reach him at this point.

He slipped out the side and stood in front of the sheet music. This.. if he sung this, it would never be the same again. This was going to be the song to become part of his grand opening on the new body his best friend was working on. If he sung it now, he could never bring his magic to use that body.

His best friend might never forgive him, he thought, steadying himself against the pang in his soul, but as his mind flashed to that poor little boo in the bed with a heartbroken look.. Family first. For the first time he died, that sense of DETERMINATION became near solid, as the world tinted pink.

For a single second he was blank, trying to figure out how to do it without his new bodies synthesizers, but he was suddenly flood with the most natural feeling in the world, as the area filled with impressions of Mettaton, no, Happstablook, floating in the air, each swirling with notes, surrounding Happstablook with an ark.

One by one they opened their mouths, and their eyes closed, and they sang.

The song might have been originally called "Death by Glamour"... by if he ever took the stage again, it was going to be called "Beauty by Rebirth."

It was the most passionate 15 minutes of his life, as he repeated the song, whatever rage Nappstablook was feeling, slowly sieving off by each repetition. And as the final note fell, two wide blue eyes watched out of the cracked door.

"Metta!" Fraskablook cried out, before grasping him tightly, floating right next to him, the boo baby near fused to his side.

"Oh darling," Happstablook whispered inaudibly, as his mirror images floated away. No one knew him by that name in this form, besides Nappsta, and Nappsta would never tell. This child was truly a mystery.

And as resolved eyes of Nappstablook met Happstablook's gaze, he knew he was going to go far deeper into this rabbit hole before anything was resolved.  
-


	4. AUTHOR ALERT

Too many toxic readers, not enough mental stamina to deal with this. I'm keeping the majority of my stories on Google doc anymore because each chapter comes with at least one poisonous comment and a wall of guilt trips.

I'm tired of ffnet giving me anxiety attacks, but I'll leave it open for one last thing.

If you want to see any content from me, it's not going to be here. Please PM me if you want more.

This account is going to disappear and each story will be deleted as I post it elsewhere.

For the sake of all authors, please reflect on what you say before you say it in a review. Don't be awful people.

The ones that have been nice, thank you for being there for me.


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